


Journey of A Raindrop

by Fox_Felix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Highschool Marauders, M/M, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:00:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Felix/pseuds/Fox_Felix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The journey of a raindrop starts with the fall. </p><p>A lone soul falling among thousands of others, twisting and twining it's way to earth, to completion. A story untold, a history forgotten. This is my story, a life tangled with countless others, a life unfulfilled, a life that is finally ready, a voice desperate to be heard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journey of A Raindrop

March 5th, 1999. **Present Day**. 

 

At the edge of the tiniest village in Scotland, where the sprawling country-side meets the cold and dark vastness of a great loch, there is a lone hill, shaded by a lone tree, that watches over the valley before it, the seemingly empty landscape where so many wondrous and terrible things had occurred.  

And on that hill, shivering in the cold draft that came from deep within the earth, bringing with it voices that whispered to the trees tales of long ago, tales of love and triumph, of loss and grief, there sat a man. Not an ordinary man by any measure, though he did appear to be in great need of a bath and a fresh pair of shoes, but a wizard.

The man sat with his back leaning against the old gnarled trunk of the tree, letting it support him for there was no strength left in his body for him to do so himself, he sat, and he watched, watched the quiet night come alive with creatures great and small, watched as they fought for the fleeting lives they lived, every part of them fighting to survive, just a little bit longer, just one more day, he watched as they lived, and he wondered what it must be like, to live a life that one was so desperate to keep.

The quiet spell that had settled over the valley was broken as the man shifted in anticipation, his stomach squirmed and his heart raced as a young girl appeared next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. He had grown accustomed to her appearances over the years, used to the way she made him so uncomfortable with just her presence. She stood quietly a few paces from him, observing the valley before her, and he wondered if she was thinking the same as he had, curious about the life of the beasts down there.

Although she was most certainly regarding it differently to him, with much more envy and longing. They sat together in silence, breathing and watching, watching and breathing, until he could no longer take the stress of her unusually contemplative quiet. He turned to her slowly, his clothes rustling together as he shifted, head heavy on his shoulders as he regarded her. And he wondered for the first time in years how she managed to look so old when she was wearing such a young face.

But look old she did, her once youthful and bright face was dark with shadows, eyes heavy lidded and ringed in black. Her cheeks were gaunt and stretched thin, her lips dry and cracked and her hair faded and tangled. Oh how she'd changed. Although the same could be said for him of course, he was scarcely thirty-eight and yet he looked at least fifty. His hair was patched where there was hair, and his skin was lined and marked, eyes that had seen too much pain and death sunk low into his face and he knows that he too, is far younger than he looks. 

"Is this what you wanted?"

Her voice is a surprise, croaky with disuse and missing the loud, bright tone it used to carry. She sounded... well, dead. 

She keeps talking, seemingly not wanting an answer or not caring if he even had one.

"Are you happy now? Are you finally free?" 

She stares straight ahead, her tattered dress floating around her, noiselessly in the breeze, she looks so lost, so empty. 

"Is this what you wanted? All of those years ago? They’re all gone." Her voice cracks into him like a whip and his heart constricts, she doesn't seem to notice, doesn't seem to feel a thing. She never does these days.

"They’re all dead. Me too i suppose, but do you know the strangest thing?" He doesn't, and he doesn't want her to tell him, but his voice is lost and he can't say no. "They can’t see me. The living cannot see me, and neither can the dead. The living cannot remember me, and neither can the dead."

He didn't want to know, he really didn't. And his heart aches, as it has for nearly twenty years, it aches for the loved ones he's lost, for the people he's hurt, and the things he's done. Not for the first time, his attention is dragged like a magnet to the marble headstone a few feet from his legs, facing into the valley below. He doesn't need to read it to know what it says, it's been burned into his memory for years. 

She looks at him, and he's captivated by the emptiness in her eyes, the cold way she regards him. She can't even hate him anymore, she's too tired for that. He understands, although he'll never truly stop hating himself for the things he's done.

"Its time, old friend. It’s time to say goodbye." He nods in agreement, and readies himself for what comes next. As it turns out, even in death she will continue to surprise him. 

"And this time, I’m taking you with me."

He freezes, she can't mean... can she? No, its not possible, she would have done it a long time ago if she could.

"Someplace you can’t ever harm another soul."

And suddenly she's moving, silently and softly over the grass, her movements making no impact on the world around her, and she leans back against the tree trunk next to him. And slowly, so slowly he's not sure it's happening, she lowers her head onto his shoulder. And he can't breathe, because he can _feel_ her. For the first time ever, he can feel the warmth from her body and her hair tickling his chin. He could feel her. He sucks in a shaky breath, more of a gasp than anything, and realises he's crying, fat, wet tears that slide down his cheeks and drip onto his hands. 

She whispers to him quietly and he feels the panic rise in his chest, stirring in his gut, but he can’t move, he’s frozen. 

“It’s okay, you don't need to be scared. I’m told it’s just like falling asleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a new fic i'm writing, and I've never really written one before so please go easy on me. I really like this story and I've had an image in my head of the way it's going to go for a really long time, i hope that i can deliver on this and i really hope you like it.
> 
> P.S. I don't own any of the characters in the original Harry Potter universe, except the ones i have added myself.


End file.
